


Ropes

by Str4y



Series: Heat [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Burning, Character Death, Crucifixion, Crying, Cults, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fire, Fuckbuddies, Graphic Description, Guilt, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Pain, Religion, Religious Cults, Screaming, Self-Destruction, Sequel, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, binsung, minchan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: The guilt ate at him every day. The guilt of what he had done. Minho wasn’t there anymore. That was his fault.Chan should have understood the implications of his religion. He should have never let Hyunjin take Minho out that night.He felt so much guilt. So much pain.But he fucking deserved it.Sequel to Nails.





	Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> HI. Here is nails 2. If you don’t know what nails is, this story might be a mess. So if you want to read Nails first to understand this one, I would do so. 💛
> 
> D I S C L A I M E R 
> 
> -There is descriptive character death in this fic. Don’t read it that makes your uncomfortable please. I believe I’ve tagged everything accordingly.
> 
> -I’m not linking this to any religion. Yeah, there’s a few mentions of crosses but I’m not linking it to Christianity or Judaism in any way. The religion in this fic is 100% made up and let’s be real, it’s a cult. I would never intentionally pin this on any religion because this specific cult is sick and twisted and made-up.

Minho was so beautiful. So pretty when he entered the room covered in sweat from dance practice, t-shirt clinging to his skin. So lovely when he hopped onto Chan’s bed, fingers in Chan’s hair. Of course Chan told Minho to get his sweaty ass off of his bed. But in a way, sweat was the last thing Chan was worried about staining his sheets. 

Minhos tongue was toxic. Chan couldn’t get enough but every lick and roll of Minhos tongue caused him to lose his mind, hips rutting against Minhos, the clothing between them growing more painful with each second. 

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since Chan had fucked. He only really slept around with Minho. Minho on the other hand had fucked days ago. He made it a point to say it aloud was Friday. Friday had been a big party. Who knew how many people Minho had gotten with that night. As long as he was clean, Chan never cared. He trusted Minho. 

“Chan!” Minho was gasping against his lips. He must’ve been begging for him. Especially with how his fingers were running across his stomach. 

“You’re eager,” Chan laughed, getting a nose scrunch from the man below. He loved Minho. 

He loved Minho a lot. 

“Chan I can't!” Minho was trembling, mouth gaped wide as his hips rolled against Chan’s fingers. 

“It hasn’t even been—“

It didn’t matter. Minho came fairly fast, arm over his forehead as his chest rose and fell with each heavy gasp. He was so overwhelmed and Chan had barely done anything at all. He was only two fingers deep and Minho was losing it. 

“Wow how did you last at that party on Friday? I thought you said you’d just had sex—“ Chan started, getting one of Minhos cute giggles in reply

Minho grabbed Chan’s face with shaky fingers, caressing either side of Chan’s cheeks with his thumbs, “Yeah. But it’s been two weeks since I’ve been with you, Channie.” Minho smirked before clashing their lips again. Chan couldn’t help but roll onto his side and yank the covers over the two as Minho broke out into more giggles against their lips. He fucking loved this man. 

Minho. Chan loved Minho. He loved Minho so much. 

Chan has never thought about the implications of his religion. It never occurred to him that maybe he was in the wrong. That maybe the religion he’d followed his family into was...wrong. Chan hadn’t really ever doubted his religion. At least, not until Minho. 

There was an awful feeling that riled up in Chan’s bones when he saw the marks on Minho’s thighs. They were unmistakable, and unforgiving. They were brands. The circles burnt into the younger man’s skin sealed his fate. Sure, Chan could have burned them into different shapes. He could have told Minho what they really meant, but the cult—church knew. 

Hyunjin must have planned it ahead of time. He knew Chan would be hosting this time around. He knew that Chan was in love with his roommate. Hyunjin knew and he did it anyways. 

Chan didn’t think anything of it at first. Minho slept around a lot. It was normal. And it wasn’t like Minho didn’t always come back to Chan anyways. He was happy, Chan was happy. They were perfectly fine, whole and happy. Thriving. But maybe he should have questioned Minho finally giving in to Hyunjin. Yeah, of course Minho wanted to bang the guy, but why so close to…

Chan shouldn’t have let Minho go. He should have told him he wanted him to stay. They could have watched the new season of Minho’s favorite show. Minho could have put Chan’s longer hair into stupid loose braids and complained about all the bleaching he was doing. They could have eaten pizza instead. They could have just cuddled and fucked and had a nice night. 

But no. 

Chan was an idiot. And he’d sent his best friend to get marked for death. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

What stung the most was that it would be Chan’s very first time. Before this, he’d felt comfort knowing Hyunjin was so comfortable and excited. Chan was relieved that Hyunjin had volunteered for it rather than be forced against his will. However, he didn’t expect Hyunjin to go marking Minho. Yeah, Hyunjin said something that should have caught Chan’s attention. But he was dumb. 

So dumb. 

“I’m going to mark the biggest slut I can find.”

“Seriously? Good luck, there are tons on campus.” Chan rolled his eyes, not necessarily liking Hyunjin’s choice of words. 

“Oh, I’ve got a couple in mind.” Was Hyunjin snorted, adjusting the suspender against his chest, “I have to find someone who is impure. It’ll be super easy...very satisfying.”

“You don’t even get to watch it happen to them. You’ll go first.” Chan sighed, flipping through the book that settled on the library table. 

Thank Gods it was just the two of them. Otherwise they’d have a lot of explaining to do. 

“What kind of nails are you going to use? The expensive kind?”

Chan shot the younger a look, “Hyunjin, you know we reuse the nails every time.”

“Sick!” Hyunjin was way too naive. Did he realize what he’d signed up for?

“What’s your fascination with burning to death?” Chan asked, fingers tangling in the hair that wrapped around his cheek, “it’s going to be unpleasant. You know you’re going to die, right?”

“Aw, Hyung will take great care of me, right?” He was so naive. “Besides, I can’t wait to be your very first. The Gods are going to be so pleased considering I’m the prettiest sacrifice to date.”

Chan let out a nervous laugh, anxiety creeping down his spine, “You shouldn’t be this excited, Hyunjin...it’s going to be aw—“

“Awesome?” Hyunjins eyes widened, expression ridiculous. Hyunjin didn’t get it. Not at all. 

“Sure.” Chan gave up, eyes falling back into the book, “do you think they even care about looks? Old men have been in your position.”

“Yeah I know.” Hyunjin sighed, arms flinging over the table, blocking the paragraph Chan was reading, “but like, I’m beautiful. I’m the youngest one so far, right?”

Chan pursed his lips, “no...there was another. Way younger than us.”

“Ah! I remember. The little girl. She was stubborn. I remember she was too scared so her mom went and burned with her.”

Chan winced. There was nothing normal about that. Nothing normal about any of this. 

But it was his religion. He grew up with it. 

“Hyung, Who should I pick?”

“I thought you had someone in mind?” Chan frowned, prying Hyunjins hands from his book, “just go with your gut. No matter who you pick...they won’t like it.”

Chan managed to glance up, catching the quick smirk that ran across the freshman’s face, “I know they won’t. I don’t think /anyone/ will like who I pick.”

“Don’t pick a minor…” Chan started, getting another wide-eyed look from Hyunjin. 

“You’re joking, right? I’m not a monster. The Gods chose that little girl. I wouldn’t choose a child. That’s sick.” Hyunjin was contradicting himself. 

“You’re fine when the church sends a little girl to be burned alive, but it’s monstrous if you did it?”

Hyunjin leaned in, eyes squinting, “the Gods chose her.”

Chan rolled his eyes again, focusing back onto his book. 

“I want an older guy anyways.”

Chan allowed his eyes to pan back up, watching Hyunjin closely, “so you’re choosing a guy?”

“Most likely. There’s this girl who I heard gives the best handies, though. Might go with her instead. Besides she’s like an atheist or something. And she probably spits on kids.”

“Hyunjin, there’s nothing wrong with people who aren’t into religion.”

“You’re joking, right?” Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head, “those kinds of people are the best to burn.”

That didn’t sit well with Chan. 

“No, seriously. Our religion doesn’t shit on anyone else. We’re respectful.”

“We shouldn’t be.”

“Hyunjin, don’t be like that.”

“You’re only pressed because your roommate is just as bad as handjob girl.”

Chan closed the book, crossing his arms at the table, jaw clenched. “Hyunjin, I’m just telling you how it is. Leave people alone. We’re all different.”

Hyunjin laughed, inching back into his chair. 

“Hyunjin...you’re not even considering my roommate right?” Chan didn’t think he ever would. But bringing Minho up didn’t make sense. He felt anxious about that. 

“What on earth, hyung?!” Hyunjin laughed, hands over his eyes in disbelief, “You seriously think I’d go for someone close to anyone? No. I would never. It’s your first time doing this why would I take your sex buddy?”

“Good.”

“He’s not even all that slutty—I mean I’d totally do him but he’s clearly yours, right?” 

Chan sighed, opening his book again. He’d lost his spot, though. “Minho isn’t anyone’s. He’s my best friend and we—we’re close. But he’s not...he isn’t what you referred to him as.”

“A slut?” Chan winced again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that at all. He probably sleeps with as many people as every other college boy.” Hyunjin adjusted himself, snapping at both suspenders this time, “so...how close are you guys? I’ve been interested in him for a bit. Like, could I sleep with him?”

Chan rolled his eyes, “Minho is free to do whoever he wants. I’m surprised he hasn’t slept with you, yet.” Chan immediately regretted his words, “I don’t mean that...Minhos not—ugh. He’s obviously got a little crush on you.”

Hyunjin perked up, “He does? So like if I asked him out you think he’d come?”

“He doesn’t wanna join our church, Hyunjin. Even if during the day we seem normal...he’s very anti religion. He turns you down all the time. We even joke about it together at home. He’s not interested.”

“I mean...to have sex? I could make it my last time before the ceremony. Maybe my birthday would do. Treat myself and...yeah.”

Chan stilled again, “I don’t know. Maybe? I’m sure he’d be down for that.”

“Would you be okay with it?” Hyunjin asked, leaning his chin into his palm, elbow propped and lashed fluttering lightly, “Hyung?”

“Jesus, Hyunjin. I’m not his keeper. If you wanna take him out go ahead. I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” 

Part of Chan wanted to say no. But Minho wasn’t his. As much as he loved him, Minho was free. He could sleep with whoever he wanted. He knew Minho would always come back. He loved Chan. He knew that. 

He made a mistake. He should have been more selfish. More involved. Less willing to give Minho away. Why did he do that? 

The state of Minhos legs the morning after Hyunjin took him out...it was clear now. Chan was an idiot. He’d made a very bad mistake. Horrible. 

“Ah, be careful. Fuck…” Minho whined, leaning down for the hundredth time to cover the circular burn at his thigh. “Seriously, it really hurts, Channie.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want it to get infected...we should take you to the hospital—“

“Uh, no. I’m going to confront that stupid bitch and punch him in his stupid face.”

Chan also, wanted to do that. Chan wanted to do many things to Hyunjin right about now. After this, he really did want to kill him. 

There was no mistaking those marks. Hyunjin had set it all up. He for some...terrible reason...wanted Minho to burn next to him. And Chan didn’t have a choice but to allow it. He couldn’t stop it now. Chances were Hyunjin had already told the church head. He knew by now. And they were probably looking up where to discard Minhos corpse when they finished. When Chan finished. 

“Hyung, you okay? I swear I’m fine. It just stings.”

Chan had to muster everything in him to not hold Minho as tight as he could, to kiss his hair and just tell him everything. He wanted to tell Minho. He loved Minho. He didn’t want him to...he just didn’t want this. 

“I’m okay, just pissed...why the hell would he do this to you?” Chan sighed, dabbing the cloth gently to Minhos thigh, The younger letting out a simple whine. 

“I don’t know…” Minho winced again before practically doubling over, Chan helping him up and wrapping his arms around Minhos waist. He must’ve been in so much pain… 

“Hey...it’s okay. I’ll take care of you, Minnie.” Chan frowned, pressing light pecks to Minhos hair. 

All he wanted to do was protect him. But he couldn’t even do that right. 

“Why him?”

“Why who?” 

Hyunjin was acting like he didn’t know what he’d done. Chan was enraged. He was so mad. 

“Oh Minho? Boy was he mad earlier.” Hyunjin laughed, feet propped up on the library table. Chan was standing, fists clenched. It was taking everything in him to not kill this boy. 

“...you said you wouldn’t. Why did you...Hyunjin please tell me this isn’t real? You marked someone else, right?” Chan was shaky. He didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to. He needed to make sure before he lost his mind. 

Hyunjin smirked. 

No. 

“I did it for your special day. Did I mention he’s a really good sex buddy. I’m sad I’ll only get to do it once. You know…” he eyed Chan now, “since he’s going to die tomorrow.”

Chan punched him. So hard. So hard that that lanky bitch was on the floor, holding his jaw. He knew he shouldn’t harm Hyunjin. The church wouldn’t like that. He was to be protected until death. No marks on his face...but he. Chan couldn’t help it. 

“Chan, you’re not being very professional—“

“Why him!?” Chan yelled, tears flooding the corners of his eyes. “Of everyone...why? Hyunjin what did I do to you? What did he ever do to you…”

“I told you.” Hyunjin stood up, brushing off his clothes as he stood directly in front of Chan, peering down at him with icy eyes, “I wanted to take the biggest non religious slut with me.”

Chan was about to lose it. Literally lose it. 

“Take it back. Take it back and mark someone else. Someone else, please…” Chan was shaking. He couldn’t comprehend. He knew there was nothing that could be done. And it hurt. His chest was so tight and knotted. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to lose Minho. Not at his own hands. 

“The church already has all the details. They’re planning it all.” Hyunjin tilted his head, clicking his tongue as he watched Chan with the tiniest sliver of a smirk, “they’re gonna make sure when he’s found, nobody will suspect us. Just like always.”

Chan couldn’t contain himself. But they were in a library. He had to. He couldn’t expose them. There was nothing he could do but fall to his knees, grabbing one of Hyunjins pants leg, “Please...I’m begging you to change it. Don’t make me kill him. Please.”

“Hyung...you got chosen for the most important job of the church. You’re out of luck on this one. You and I both know that.” Hyunjin kicked Chan away, causing Chan to stumble forwards, hands clutching the carpeting underneath.

He felt so sick. So sick he was going to vomit. 

“Hyunjin please...you’re the only one who can change this. You’re the only one.” Chan could see the tears hitting the carpet now. He wanted to die. This was sick. Humiliating. He felt so awful. He didn’t want to kill Minho. He didn’t want Minho near any of this. 

“It’s final. You know the rules. Once the marks been made, the Gods await their dinner. And wow…” Chan glanced up, a soft moan escaping the younger males lips, “they’re going to be so satisfied with the two of us.” 

Chan hung his head, breath shallow as Hyunjin walked around him, “don’t worry hyung. I’ll visit you guys tomorrow sometime. So leave the door open. Might wanna fit in one last sexual encounter with your slutty boyfriend before the big day.”

Chan wanted to scream. As Hyunjins body turned the corner Chan couldn’t help but collapse to the floor, face against the carpet that hadn’t been vacuumed in years. He felt so sick. His stomach was knotted and he suddenly felt like drowning. Just drowning away. 

Soon, he was on his side, clasping his stomach and shivering, arms wrapped about himself. He’d never felt so small. So miserable. 

He had no choice. If he didn’t do this...they’d kill him. And then they’d kill Minho, too. Even if Chan tried to run away they’d just kill his family instead. His little siblings...they were innocent. His father...his mother...less so, but still. His family. 

It was either he did his job, or everyone else would die. He had no choice. 

He refused to let more people die in the place of one. Even if that one person...meant the world to him. 

“He really did that to you? I’m so sorry, hyung. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be.” Felix was trying to assist. In any way he could. But the younger boy wasn’t much help at all. He only made Chan’s stomach turn more. “I’ll help make it as easy and quick as possible.”

Executioners assistant. Felix had been doing this for a few years now. He had even taken over once the older executioner began to wither away from old age. Felix was...experienced. He wasn’t any better than anyone else in the church. He’d killed a few people by now. Innocent people. 

“How are you going to get Minho to come?”

Chan let his head hit the back of the pew, lips pursed as both legs stretched out under the pew above, “it’s up to Hyunjin. He’s going to get him…I don’t know when.”

Felix sighed, tapping the pew above, “I’ll make his crown heavier.”

“Pardon?”

“His crown…” Felix frowned, “If it’s heavier he won’t be able to move as much.”

“How the fuck...is that a good thing?” Chan snapped, fists tightening and knuckles whitening. 

“The heavier...the quicker it’ll be. I’ll make his clasps sharper too.”

Chan wanted to vomit. “Felix...this isn’t helping.”

“Should I make the nails loose too?” 

“Why…?”

“So you can hold his hand.”

Chan let out a shaky sob before burying his face, shivering through the stupid sentence Felix had thrown at him. 

“I know you don’t want to do this but...maybe you should comfort him the best you can.” Felix has a hand on Chan’s hair, patting it lightly, “I’ve...we’ve burned couples before. It’s always hard. But this one...this is your special boy. It’s unfair and painful but...it is what it is.”

Chan couldn’t even speak. He hated this. Everything about it made him want to stab his own eyes out. The feeling in his chest was just getting worse. 

“There’s no option here. They’ll kill him with or without you.”

It should feel different. Being three fingers deep into the moaning mess of a man on the bed. It should feel more romantic. More thrilling. But there was nothing thrilling about this being their last night together. The last night where they can just...exist. 

The night had been so nice. After Minho got off from classes Chan had cuddled him for hours. Telling Minho not to do his homework. To cancel seeing Woojin for study group. To just stay with him. To spend his night with him. 

It was selfish, but did Minho really need to waste his last moments in normalcy studying? He deserved to do what he liked best. Fucking. 

“Hyung please…” Minho was always so vocal, and he loved having his pretty fingers wrapped around Chan’s hair. And god...Chan loved how he just moaned around his own fingers like they were candy. 

Minho was ethereal. And Chan wasn’t ready to let him go, not one bit. 

“Let me ride you.” If it’s what Minho wanted, it’s what Chan would give him. 

Minho. He was so good at everything. The dancer had such good pacing with everything. And Chan knew he loved every second. Every time. Minho was so perfect...but he wasn’t the perfect sacrifice. Chan didn’t want this. 

It took everything in his power to not breakdown as Minho lowered himself onto his length, letting out a soft pleasurable hiss before locking their lips. He loved him. He truly loved him. So much that he couldn’t breathe. He loved this man more than anyone else. 

And it stung. Everything stung. The look on Minhos face as Hyunjins came into the room. The pure betrayal. The pure pain. He was so scared. So confused. Why did he do this? 

“Chan.”

Chan’s face was frozen, eyes unfocused on the silver haired man tied and sprawled over the wooden cross. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this at all. 

“Chan, hurry up.” Hyunjin. He hated Hyunjin so much. He hated him more than anything else. He wanted to kill him. He would but...the satisfaction wouldn’t last long. He’d have to kill Minho too and—

“Chan.”

“What…?” Chan directed his teary eyes to the freckled boy besides him. 

Felix was holding the nails and...he didn’t want to do this. 

“I know you…” Felix kept his voice low. Too low for Hyunjin to ever grasp onto, “...I know you don’t want to but...you don’t have a choice anymore.”

Chan just wanted to die. Right here. He didn’t want to do that. He’d seen in a dozen times but...doing it. He didn’t want this. 

“We already opened the ceremony and...you tied him with no problem.”

“I can’t…” Chan shuddered then, placing his hand over Felix’s, coveting the nails, “Felix I cant breathe…”

“Chan, you have to.” Felix glanced to the crowd with a weary look before turning back to Chan. “If you don’t, you know what will happen. Do you really want that? You can’t save him now.”

“What if…” Chan took a deep breath, “can’t I just take him away...I can get someone else. I can—“

“Chan. You can’t.” Felix shoved the rusted nails into his hands. He wanted to vomit. And scream. This was so fucking unreal. 

He shut his eyes tight, biting at his bottom lip. “He won’t wake up, will he?”

“No. He’s drugged heavily…” Felix frowned, kneeling down to Minho, fingertips brushing silver hair from the man’s forehead, “he shouldn’t wake till...later.” Felix pulled back, giving Chan a sorrowful look. 

“Come on, Felix let’s go. I’m ready to go.”

Hyunjin. Even Felix rolled his eyes. He was that aggravating...he hated him. He hated him so much. 

“It’ll be quick. You can do it. Okay? Start with his hands…”

Chan nearly let out a sob at that. His hands. Minhos small pretty hands. They were so soft and delicate. They were nice to hold. Nice to kiss. He wanted to kiss him. He just wanted to hold Minho. This felt so unreal and vile. He was the bad guy. Finally, he was realizing he was a bad guy. Minho was innocent. He wouldn’t like this. He wouldn’t understand. He’d hate Chan. He would hate him and Chan wasn’t sure he could—

“Ow what the ff—!”

“Don’t.” Felix growled, the sound of something slamming down. The hammer. Gods. It sounded so awful. The constant banging of the hammer. 

Chan wanted to puke. 

He inched closer to Minho, eyes scanning the males frame. He’d dressed him in a simple black t shirt...and the pants he usually wore around campus. With the dumb hole in the knee. 

Minho. 

Chan wanted to die. He didn’t want to do this. He brought a hand to Minos cheek, feeling the cool skin. He wouldn’t be cold for much longer. He’d be so...Chan shook his head, tears fighting to clog his vision. 

He had no choice. 

As Hyunjin wailed from behind him he aligned the first nail over Minhos knuckle, choking back a sob as he steadied the hammer. 

He didn’t want to do this. 

He couldn’t. 

Chan scanned Minhos features, tears threatening his eyes. He didn’t want to do this. He couldn’t. This was so fucked. So unfair. He just couldn’t. Why did he have to do it? He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. 

“Chan. It’s okay.” Felix wrapped his hand around Chan’s, steadying the hammer directly over the nail. “Let me help.”

“Felix I can't do this I can’t…” he was hyperventilating. He wasn’t focused. He was crying. He wanted to go home. He wanted to take Minho home. 

“You have to.” Felix raised Chan’s hand in his own. No no no. 

Chan was going to be sick. He was about to scream at the sound of nail piercing skin so close to him. Chan nearly threw himself back but Felix repeated the action, causing Chan to shudder. 

Chan shut his eyes tight. He just let Felix continue, trying to block out the sound of hammer nailing to the wood. 

It was so disgusting. 

“Chan. Let me finish. You only have to do one.”

Chan immediately pulled away, eyes swelling up with tears. 

“Go to the bathroom. Don’t let them see you like this. “ Felix commanded then, taking another nail and positioning it over Minhos bloody hand, “I’ll make it loose so...so he can pull it out.”

Chan felt absolutely no comfort. All he knew was that he was running away. He wasn’t actually running. He had to hold appearances. But he was exiting off to the side, head covered and low from the crowd watching him. He could see his mother shoot him a concerned look. It didn’t matter. Nobody mattered right now. 

He was sobbing. Hands over the toilet seat, choking in tears and struggling to get up from the floor he’d collapsed onto. 

This was so sick. He was sick. He was going to kill himself. Maybe then he could get away. He could smash his head. It would be fine. Smashing his head. He wouldn’t have to watch Minho burn. Watch Minho cry. Scream that he hated him. He could just die. 

No. If he did that...what if they did more things to Minho? They’d torture him. They’d cut him up for fun. They’d degrade him. They’d hurt Minho more. They’d even kill Chan’s family. 

He couldn’t die. He had no choice. 

He had to do it. 

Chan lifted his face from the vomit-covered rim of the toilet, disgust crossing his features. His stomach and throat burned. His chest was tight and his heart heavy. He didn’t want this. He just wanted Minho. He didn’t ask for this. 

He had to do it. 

Minho. He looked so awful. Ankles and hands covered in blood. Gods, he just wanted to scoop him up and kiss him. His chest was heavy. So heavy. 

“Can we hurry up?” Hyunjin growled from the side, “hyung, this is really painful. Can we please get it over with…”

Chan took a deep breath, holding back the tears that wanted to badly flood his face once he locked his eyes with the stirring man he loved. He was waking. His body was so tense. He could see Minho wincing in pain, fingers curling slightly, shaking even. Minho. 

Chan felt a tear escape as Minho blinked his eyes, soft whimpers leaving his lips. Chan quickly wiped the tear, eyes trying to calm on the man below. 

Minho looked so scared. So lost. He even moved and when he screamed, Chan did everything he could to not touch him. To not hold him and...

“Hey Minnie…” 

Minho looked away. 

Chan apologized. But Minho just ended up crying, sobbing. He looked so bad. So terrified. His heart was in knots. Minho hated him. He definitely hated Chan. It was what he deserved. Minho hated him. 

But soon Minho asked about the bucket. Chan told him. 

The bucket of blood. More like a cup. Just large enough to fill with blood. He hated this part. The blood sharing. Making Minho drink Hyunjins dirty blood would be so excruciating. Minho would refuse. He would have to force him. 

Minho was so stubborn. 

He didn’t want to hit Minho. He didn’t at all. And it stung to do it. He’d never hit Minho. Never thought about harming him. But...he had to. If he let Minho get away without warning...Chan had no choice. Again, he had no choice. 

Minho must have hated him. Chan slapped him. Chan hurt him. Chan was...he wanted to die. 

Holding Minho down was painful. Getting the pretty man to drink was excruciating. He hated this. He didn’t want Minho to cry anymore. But Minho was a wreck. And damn, Hyunjin taking everything easily hurt too. He wanted Hyunjin to suffer. But he drank the blood quietly, even releasing a pleased sigh when he finished. Chan hated him. He hated him for this. 

“Felix…” the crowns. This would be so awful. But they had to be inserted after exchanging blood. Even if Minho was awake. He had no choice. 

“It’s sharp...heavy.” Felix whispered, Chan taking the crown in both hands. It wasn’t too heavy to rip Minhos head open, but it’d weigh him down. Even the dancer wouldn’t be able to lift his head well. “It won’t be as bad. The insertion...it’ll hurt but...not like this.” Felix tapped the sharp points of Hyunjins own crown. It didn’t look as sharp and even looked...rougher. It’d hurt more. Good. 

“Thank you…”

Minho. He didn’t hate Chan. He didn’t hate him. He even asked to go home...he was breaking Chan’s heart. Chan settled on Minhos stomach, watching as the pretty silver haired man sputtered out words. Beautiful words. Words that were destroying Chan’s mental state. Words that hurt him. 

He didn’t feel any better when he slipped the metal at Minhos silver hair, the metal crown looked so nice on him. He looked like a prince. And it made Chan sick. He wanted to cry. 

Minho. He loved Minho. 

He had just begged him to stop. Minho begged so hard. He was sobbing so hard and choking. And Chan didn’t want to continue. He wanted to just lay on top of Minho and hold him, kiss his hair, tell him he was sorry and that he loved him. 

Appearances. He couldn’t he couldn’t do that. 

Chan wiped Minhos face, the man heaving in misery underneath of him. He felt sick. Sick. Sick. 

He hadn’t even paid attention to Felix telling Hyunjin to be quiet. Be respectful. 

Chan was supposed to shut Minho up. But he couldn’t. He loved him. He wouldn’t do that. He’d skip that step. 

“How long have you been planning to do this to me?”

Something inside Chan snapped. It took all of his remaining strength to not burst into hysterics. Shit, he couldn’t hide the little sob that slipped his lips. He felt so sick. He wanted to hold Minho so badly. 

Chan tried to explain, choking back his own pain. He had to. He had to. 

He heard whispers. He had to stop. He got up quickly, adjusting himself as he made his way to the front podium, eyes glossy yet able to glance across the crowd. He held a single finger to his lips. He needed to seem stable. He needed to stay calm for them. 

His mother. She was so concerned. Her face looked gloomy. She must’ve known. By Chan’s face. 

He was Chan’s special boy. The one he’d told her about. His mother must have known. She knew. She knew it was /that/ Minho. 

He took a deep breath, turning his face from the crowd, steadying himself. He was shaking so badly. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He really didn’t. 

Chan motioned for Felix to follow him, getting a weak grin from Hyunjin as he inched to the rope hanging. 

“Finally.” Hyunjin sounded unstable. Shaky. He, himself, was struggling. Good. 

Raising them was painful. Hearing Minho gasping for air and thrashing despite the crowns weight. Chan was terrified. So terrified for that boy. 

Minho seemed to calm considerably once Chan took his contacts out. Even just a small gesture. He didn’t want Minho to see. He didn’t want Minho to be anymore irritated and pained than he had to be. Chan couldn’t imagine burning alive with contacts in his eyes...he couldn’t imagine burning period. 

How was he supposed to continue? He grabbed Minhos petite face in his hands, eyes scanning over the younger males features. Minho was so beautiful. He was so lovely. So amazing. So perfect. 

It made Chan’s insides turn. He couldn’t wait. He had to kiss him. He needed the warmth. He had to kiss him. 

Minhos lips were chapped. He should have applied some chapstick on the boys lips. Not that it mattered. He was going to be...dry everywhere else soon too. 

Chan’s heart snapped as Minho pressed into the kiss. Minho still wanted to kiss him? Minho still…

But Hyunjin snapped him out of it. And Chan pulled away. 

“Don’t…”

Chan was about to collapse. His lip quivered at Minhos words. Minhos tiny strained words. Chan’s chest was so fucking tight. So sickenly tight. 

“Stay please…”

Chan let a noise slip. He didn’t mean to. And it didn’t help him contain his pain at all. It was becoming more and more visible. Soon everyone would see. Everyone would see how hurt he was. No. 

Suddenly Minho screamed. So loud. So loud that Chan turned, tears holding at the corner of his eyes as he saw the sight. 

Minho hadn’t just managed to pull his hand free. He tore it up. He ripped it off the cross. Felix did what he could but...Minho just ripped his fucking hand from them. Jesus Christ...Minho what the—

He had to turn. He just told Minho to stop. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do this. Not yet. Not right now he had to continue. 

The only good thing...was Hyunjins face when he saw the gas canister. 

That was it. 

Just that. Pouring it, hurt. Lighting Hyunjin up, hurt. 

It all hurt. 

Chan couldn’t even enjoy Hyunjins screams. Or that he was trying to pathetically blow himself out with his stupid mouth. 

Fuck Hyunjin. 

Hyunjins bucking corpse didn’t disturb him at all. He was so desensitized to burning corpses. They’d watched dozens. 

Minho was so different. 

The way Minho was still pleading, sobbing and nuzzling into Chan’s hands. Begging for him to stop. Minho didn’t hate him. Minho knew he was going to die, didn’t he? There was no way he thought he’d get down. 

Minho was going to die. 

Chan hated that. 

Minho was tugging at the nails as Chan poured gasoline over him. 

He did it. He was doing it. 

Minho was. 

Chan’s heart snapped. 

Minho had grabbed him, begged. He was begging. He was begging and crying and sobbing and he just wanted comfort. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. Save him.

He wanted to help him. 

Instead he ripped from Minhos grasp. His bloody grasp. 

He tried to tell Minho to stop moving. 

It hurt. 

It hurt to see the flames starting at the wood. Right above Minhos shoes. 

And then it just spread. It just spread and. 

Minho was screaming. He was going to lose his voice. 

Minho was hurting himself more than he wanted. He was trying to yank nails and he was hitting his head. 

Chan took his hand down. He held his face. He shushed him. Despite the flames spreading above he kissed him. He had to. He had to help. It’s all he could do. It’s all he could fucking do. 

But Minho didn’t want him anymore. He broke from Chan’s grasp. And as the flames got too much to bare...Chan found himself stumbling back. 

He was horrified by the sight. 

He was burning. Roasting. Screaming and begging and crying. 

Chan felt heavy, wanting to just breakdown right there. But he couldn’t. He had to watch. 

It was hot. And Minho was screaming. 

It was so hot. 

Minho stopped making words. He was...he was screeching. They weren’t even screams anymore. They were...he wanted to scream. This hurt. It hurt so badly. Minho was just...wailing. Burning alive. 

He was still...he was still trying to yank nails. He was still trying to get out. 

Chan’s eyes filled with tears as Minhos hand dropped, eyes wide and settled on Chan. His mouth gaped. 

He’d be dead in seconds. If he wasn’t already dead. 

Chan’s heart was gone. It was completely fucking ripped out. Thrown into the fire. 

Minho. 

The flames were wrapping around that pretty face, silver hair burning away and face melting against flames. 

Chan was sobbing now. 

He couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

As Minho bucked a couple of times against the wood, he soon ceased movement. 

He was gone. Minho was gone. 

Chan felt his body shudder, the sounds of cheering behind him mixed with chanting and praises. He hated it. He wanted it to stop. 

He was in so much pain. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of Minhos face 

He had to get him down. 

He had to save Minho. He could do it. It wasn’t too late. He could. 

“Chan stop!” 

He could do it. He could. Even if it hurt. Even if he was stinging and screaming against the heat. He had to try. He could. He would take Minho down. 

“Chan you have to stop! Chan stop oh my gods!”

Felix was speaking nonsense. He couldn’t stop. 

He had to save Minho. 

What time was it?

Chan wasn’t sure anymore. 

Chan wasn’t sure of anything anymore. 

“Channie?” Oh. 

“Are you okay? Channie why would you do that?”

He was in the hospital. Well not an actual hospital, there was a section of the church that acted as a medical bay. Of course there was. And it made sense that he was here. Like this. 

He had tried to pull Minho down. He got burnt. He was burnt. His hands were all wrapped. How long had he been here? 

“How long?”

“Just a couple of days.” His mother was caressing Chan’s cheek. But there was no comfort. Nothing. He felt nothing. “Why would you do that?”

Chan wasn’t about to answer. He just wanted to cry himself to sleep. To die. To disappear. He wasn’t going to answer her. He wasn’t. 

He just closed his eyes, turning his face. He was burning up. He probably had a fever, too. 

Maybe his heart was just broken. His brain couldn’t regulate anything anymore. He felt sick. 

“Chan, the church is...concerned.” Felix. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care what Felix had to say. 

“Listen, I know you’re in pain. I know that you loved him. I do.”

Felix didn’t know anything. 

“I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I didn’t know he would rip his hand off like that...I didn’t. Chan I’m so sorry.”

“Get the fuck out.”

“Chan don’t cur—“

“Get out. Get the fuck out. Leave. Go away.” Chan was crying. He didn’t realize. He didn’t realize he was burying his face into the pillow, shaking painfully. He just wanted Felix to go away. He wanted him to go away. 

“I know you’re in pain, but you can’t do this. Chan the church is already worried you’re unable to do this—“

“They made me kill him.” Chan whispered, clutching the sheets at his side. 

“They didn’t.”

Chan took in a deep breath, eyes swelling up, “Felix I want to take it back.”

“You can’t.”

“Please…”

“The police already found him. The members took him and Hyunjin to that dance studio and lit it up. Made sense that way. They were both into that stuff—.”

Chan turned his head, brows knit in anguish. 

“He was...there wasn’t much of him in the end so they shouldn’t have any reason to come after you.”

“Why are you telling me this? Please stop.” Chan was hurting. He didn’t want to hear this. His stomach was in knots. “Please get out. Don’t let my parents in. Don’t let anyone in. Just go.”

“I’m sorry, Chan.” Felix whispered, patting Chan’s hand before sliding out of the wooden chair and out the door. 

A year couldn’t mend chans heart. A year did absolutely nothing. Sure, he’d managed to go back to school. He’d managed to burn other people for their God’s. But. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there at all. 

“Chan, you’re staring off again. You need anything?”

Chan watched the window, the window that outlooked chan's old dorm. The dorm he would —

“Changbin is coming by later. Did you need anything before we go?”

Jisung. 

Jisung was new. When Chan had returned to school, he needed a new roommate. 

So he found Jisung. 

Chan knew Changbin. Minho had known him too. A mutual friend. Changbin was crushed when the news broke out about the fire. About Minho and Hyunjins deaths. Changbin had always liked them both. 

Seeing Changbin hurt sometimes. 

“No?” Jisung laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “did you need me to call Wooj or something?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Chan smiled. 

A lie. 

But Jisung didn’t ever press the issue. Jisung ignored Chan a lot. He was nice, and Chan knew it was because Changbin had asked him to be, but it hurt. It would always hurt. 

“Channie.”

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Why not?” Slender arms wrapped around his neck, tiny kisses coating his jaw, “it’s been a week. I miss you.”

“It’s been over a year.”

A soft giggle, “I love you so much. So much. Time doesn’t matter, you know that.”

Chan was about to breakdown. 

He cupped one of the small hands around his neck, caressing the soft flesh. The flesh that wasn’t really there. 

“I love you, too.”

His head was spinning. His heart racing and pounding in his chest. 

He wanted to die. Again, Chan just wanted to die. Nothing made sense. Nothing was fair. 

“Chan, look at me…”

He couldn’t. 

“Please?”

“Why would you volunteer?”

“I’m tired, Chan. I’m so tired of this.”

He didn’t want this. To hear it. To experience it. 

“You're leaving me alone.”

The other male looked tired. So tired. 

“Chan, I just can’t do it anymore. I want to go.”

Felix. Felix had been the closest thing to a friend. Changbin was nice and all, but he stopped talking to the dude. After Minho died they lacked commality. They were distant. Chan didn’t want to lose Felix, though. Felix was an idiot for this. 

“I don’t want to burn my friend, Felix.”

“I know.” Felix’s face fell, “I just can’t keep doing this. Last week was...it’s too much for me.”

“This isn’t fair.” Chan shot back, face frozen as he took in a deep inhale. He was doing his best not to cry. 

“Nothing is fair. Chan, I’m sorry. I know that—“

“Enough. Seriously, Felix this isn’t fair. You’re going to put me into the same spot I was in when—“

“Don’t,” Felix cut him off, “please don’t compare those two. Please.”

“Felix, you’re my friend. I don’t want to burn you. I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m sorry Chan I...I should have just slit my wrists or something. I shouldn't have volunteered.” Felix shook his head, looking forwards at his feet. 

Chan felt sick again. Felix has been like this for a while now. Chan wished he could help. But truth was, Chan wished he could volunteer too. It was unfair. 

“I’ll be selective I guess.”

Chan winced at that, “selective?”

“I’ll try to bring an asshole with me. Someone who might...might deserve it.” 

Chan’s stomach turned, “nobody deserves this, Felix.”

“I know it’s supposed to be an honor. But is it?” 

Felix’s doubts pissed Chan off. Because every time Chan had brought up doubts Felix had shut him down. Told him that his thoughts were stupid and blasphemous. 

There was nothing foolish about losing faith in a monstrous practice. One that had taken his best friend from him. 

Their religion was cruel and disgusting. Unforgiving. Unreasonable. Bullshit. 

“I’m going out tonight. Wanna come?”

Again, Jisung was trying to include Chan. But Chan knew better. Jisung was probably just doing it because Changbin had asked him to. 

“Bin wants to see you. Says it’s been awhile.”

“Tell him that I'll pass. I’ll make it up to him.” Chan never would. It wasn’t in his nature to keep promises like that. 

Jisung sighed, giving Chan the tiniest nod before leaving the room. 

And then it was silent. Jisung was gone and all was silent. 

Chan opened one of his textbooks. He wasn’t even sure which one. Or if there was any work due on these pages. But…he needed something. Some sort of functioning. 

He couldn’t even focus on the pages. And within less than a half hour he was crying again. Even after a year and he couldn’t get him out of his head. 

“Channie, we should break up, right?”

Why this memory. 

“Is that what you want?” Who asks that. 

“I mean, we’re cute and all but—“ Minho rest his chin into chans shoulder, linking his arms around chans waist as he snuggled from behind him, legs hanging off the bed. “It’s overwhelming.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m a shitty boyfriend. We never get to see each other outside sex.”

Chan knew that wasn’t entirely true. Minho was better loose. Better free. Chan, chan needed him. Minho was right that they didn’t get to see each other. They were both so busy and their schedules didn’t lap well. Anytime they had time together was spent making love in one of their beds. Perhaps that wasn’t love at all. 

“I miss you.”

Chan hated that this kept happening. Hated the transitions. The phantom Minho who wasn’t really there. He wanted him to go away. 

“Stop.” Chan persisted, elbowing and dragging himself across the bed like whatever he was seeing was actually there. 

“Channie, why did you do it?”

Shut up. 

“Please don’t ask me that.”

“I loved you.”

Chan hated this. He fucking hated this. 

“You were everything to me. Even though you...we.” Even this figment of Chan’s disturbed mind was crying. No no no. 

He reached out towards the air that had managed to trick him. Pulled the invisible nothingness into his embrace. He held that nothing, rocking back and forth as his arms tightened around himself. He felt sick. 

He wanted Minho. He wanted Minho to actually be here, not in some high end building behind a case. Not ashes in an urn. Well, maybe not him entirely. They never really fully recovered Minho. He was burnt down so badly that his parents wept and…

Chan was sobbing. He couldn’t breathe with how bad it was. He ended up on his side, bringing his pillow to his chest. Pretending it was Minho. He just held it, eyeliner tears staining everything. 

His parents. Chan went to the funeral despite having burnt up hands. He’d just covered them. Told them that he was distraught. That he felt horrible. Minhos parents held him. They knew that Chan was special. Minho had told them. Fuck, his parents thought they were still dating when Minho died. 

They apologized to /Chan/. 

Chan was wailing. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want anyone to come by and ask what was wrong. If he was okay. 

Because he wasn’t okay. Even after a whole year and some time, he wasn’t okay. He’d never be okay. 

He killed him. 

He killed his best friend. 

The love of his life. 

Nothing Chan ever did would ever fill that dark pit that had formed in his chest. Nothing. He was nothing. Everything was nothing. 

If Chan didn’t care about the well-being of his family, he would have killed himself by now. 

“Chan, what’s wrong?”

Not another memory. 

Chan couldn’t focus. He was busy rest into a fetal position at the couch, mother stroking his messy hair. 

What was wrong? Everything. 

“You can tell me. I know...I know this must be hard on you.”

Of course it was. Chans mother knew. His father was clueless but his mom? She knew. 

“There’s nothing I could have done, is there?” 

Why was he asking. He knew—

“No. Baby, this isn’t your fault. You can’t take blame.” She cooed, strokes at his hair gentle. Calm. 

“I...but I could have done more. I could have stopped it. I could have taken you all away and Minho and...I could have—“

“His fate was sealed the moment he was marked.”

Chan stirred, the sound of his phone ringing in his ears. 

He didn’t want to talk to anyone, but maybe he should. Anything to stop the memories. To get chans mother and Minho out of his head. Anything to stop crying. To leave these thoughts. He didn’t want to kill himself. Doing that would hurt his family. He couldn’t. 

“Hello?” It was Jisung. He must’ve gotten drunk tonight. 

Chan heard a choked sob at the end. Or maybe not drunk? 

“Chan, can you unlock the door? I left my keys.”

Why would he leave his keys? 

“Yeah, sure.” Chan pulled out of bed, body stiff as he cracked their door, rubbing his tears from his face, “You don’t sound good. Are you okay?”

“No.” Jisung laughed. But it was the kind of laugh that people gave when they were in disbelief. Pain. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“When I get home.”

Chan hadn’t had anymore intrusive thoughts. He felt calm. Collected in a way. When Jisung came into the room it was obvious whatever he was crying about had shifted into anger. 

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe any of this.” Jisung was gritting his teeth, fists tight. 

“What happened?”

“Changbin. He’s a little prick and I hope he fucking dies.”

Chan winced, scooting over at his bed for Jisung to sit. 

“What did he do?”

Jisung looked up to the ceiling, biting his lip with a laugh. A laugh of pain. 

“He cheated on me.” 

Chan’s eyes widened. Changbin wouldn’t do that? 

“What are you talking about?”

Jisung slammed his phone down, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Maybe he was drunk. He looked...off. 

“Some guy. Some dude he was with him and. I saw and. I’m so mad.” Jisung curled into his bed, dragging his comforter over his head. 

Chan could faintly hear hiccups and sniffles. He wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He had never seen Jisung cry....fuck. 

“Jisung, do you want me to call?” Chan pulled himself up from his bed. His comfort. He dragged his feet to Jisungs bed, patting where he was sure his head was by the sounds. “To call him at all?”

“N-no. Don’t do that. I don’t want that.” Jisung pulled the covers back, fixing his messy hair before turning to face Chan. Bloodshot eyes. But they were cloudy, too. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Chan whispered, taking a seat beside the younger, patting his back calmly. “Anything at all?”

“No. I’m fine just tired. Need to go to bed.” Jisungs words were slurring. He started to take his jacket off, whining as his arm didn’t quite move enough to pull the sleeve off. 

“Let me.” Chan frowned, tugging the sleeves down, tossing his jacket aside. 

Oh. 

“Chan, I am never...never going out again. M so mad. M…” Jisung. 

“Jisung, What is that?” Chan grabbed his arm. 

Chan felt like spinning. Like vomiting into the void. Choking. Dying. He was suddenly shaking. Suddenly suffering. Feelings from before. Feelings from Minho. Coming up. 

“What’s what?” The younger growled, shaking his arm away. 

“No...Jisung what is this!?” Chan grabbed his arm again, the younger turning in disgust. Chan never touched him like this. They didn’t touch each other period. 

“Get the fuck off of me…” Jisung hissed, elbowing Chan away now. 

He was so mad. Jisung was too angry. 

“Jisung where did you get that?” Chans throat was scratchy. Filling up with pain. 

“Some asshole did it to me.”

No no no. 

“Jisung...did you? Did you do anything wrong tonight!?”

Jisung looked like he was about to punch Chan. “I got cheated on you fucking asshole…” Jisung trailer again, laying at his pillowcase now, curling himself up in the bed, “I didn’t...so mad.”

No no. 

Chan shot up from his bed, quickly dialing Felix. Felix. Felix. 

“Chan?”

“What did you do!?” Chans voice. It was so broken. So fixated on anger. 

There was a brief pause before Felix spoke again, “what are you talking about?” 

“What have you done!? Do you have any idea what you’ve done!?” Chan was yelling. 

Jisung was sitting up, glaring at Chan to probably be quiet. But Chan was beyond that. He couldn’t contain his feelings. His misery. 

He was not. He wasn’t under any circumstances, about to kill Jisung. He wasn’t. 

“Chan...what’s going on?”

“Why did you mark Jisung!?” 

Another pause. 

“Chan what the fuck are you talking about?” Jisung was struggling to get up. God, he was drugged. It was clear now. Like Minho, he was drugged. Felix had drugged him. 

“Felix. Why Felix? I trusted you. I didn’t want this. Why did you do this!? Why him!?” Chan was hyperventilating. Panicking. 

“Wait, Chan. Calm down.”

Chan dug fingers through his hair, “he’s my friend's boyfriend. He’s my roommate. Why are you doing this to me!? I can’t lose another roommate. I can’t. He’s innocent, Felix. He’s just a kid. He’s just—“

“Chan…?” Jisung sounded so terrified. Though he probably wasn’t sure what was going on, he was shaking. He was panicking now, too. “Chan what are you saying?”

“Chan, what does he look like?”

“What, you don’t even know his name? Felix what the fuck.”

“I marked someone by a different name.”

Chan growled in reply, storming to the window of the dorm, hand pressed against, “Felix. What did you do?”

“I marked someone accidentally. But I didn’t turn their name in. Was it that kid with cheeks? Is that...Chan answer me?”

Accidentally? 

Chan calmed some, raking his fingers through his dark hair. “Jisung. Han Jisung. He’s this thin kid. Bright eyed—“

“Yeah I didn’t mean to hit him. I was using my lighter to burn. I didn’t burn him on purpose. I didn’t mean to hit him. If it’s the same guy...I hit his arm trying to mark someone else.” Felix was calm. 

“Felix. Okay.” Chan started before being smacked with something heavy. Something stupid. 

“Chan what the fuck!?” 

Chan turned to Jisung, who was clearly still out of it, but not enough to dismiss what was happening. 

“Felix, who did you mark then?” Chan asked, trying to calm as much as he could. Hopefully Jisung would forget it. 

“...this guy that was there. He was with—“

“Chan what the fuck is going on!?” Jisung was yelling, throwing a textbook this time. 

“Stop!” Chan yelled back to Jisung, cupping his hand over the phone, “Felix spit it out. Please.”

“He was with that guy. I didn’t know they were really together but...it was easy to get him to dance with me. He was being a dick...he’d already kissed a bunch of other people. When I realized he was with someone I thought he...He was perfect.”

“”Changbin…” Chan’s heart snapped. Again. Again. After a year of healing. A year of trying. 

“Yeah...The guy he was with even told him to die. He wanted him to die. Chan I...They broke up in front of me. That’s why I accidentally hit him. He got in the way and I slipped. I—“

Chan hung up, panic inside of his chest. He felt like screaming. He was hyperventilating, hands through his messy curls. He wanted to die. He absolutely could not believe this shit. 

“Chan!” Jisung had him on the ground, hitting his face the best he could. Jisung, though absolutely drugged out on whatever and weak, was hitting him like crazy. 

Chan hissed, tossing Jisung into his back, settling over the younger boy who was hollering at him in slurs. 

“What the fuck is going on! What happened to Changbin!? I could hear his name. What happened!? What did you do?!” Jisung was screaming now. Thrashing.

Chan stares down at him. His heart raced. 

“Calm down...I didn’t. Jisung I’m so sorry.” Fuck it. He wouldn’t remember. He was wasted. He was drugged. He wouldn’t remember. “I’m so sorry for this. For all of this. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about? Chan please.” Jisung was pleading, eyes glossy with more than just his high. 

“Changbin. I can’t change it now. I—he’s my friend, too. He was. I can’t. Jisung I’m sorry.”

“Innocent...he’s innocent! What did you mean by you couldn’t lose me? Chan what the hell did you do!?” Jisung hollered again, eyes drooping. He’d pass out. 

“I’m sorry.” Chan whispered, patting Jisungs cheek before pulling off of him, watching as the younger tried to reach for him only for his hand to slip to the floor. 

Fuck. 

His phone rang. Felix again. 

“What?” Chan answered hastily, rubbing at his sore eyes. Sore. He was so miserable. He was miserable.

“Chan, please tell me what I did. I didn’t know that...Chan I seriously didn’t know that—“

“Stop. Just stop. We need to meet. Is Changbin with you?” Chan asked, noticing how Jisung whines at the mention of Changbins name. 

“Do you want my honest answer?”

“Felix, please.”

“He’s in the backseat passed out. I know that people give them a day but he was...he was such a dick. I just…” Felix was sighing. Shit. 

“You drugged him, right?” Chan whispered, keeping an eye on Jisungs state. 

“Yes, Chan. I did. He’s out.”

Chan sighed, “Okay, what are you going to do with—“

“The church.”

“Okay. Okay.” Chan wasn’t okay. This wasn’t okay. “You already told them, didn’t you?”

“That’s the requirement. Chan there’s nothing I can do.” He spoke, clearing his throat. 

Fuck. 

“Felix. Did you give anything to Jisung at all?” 

“No...there were lots of drugs going around. Not me. I promise. I only drugged this one when we were alone behind the dumpsters. I didn’t want to like...sleep with whoever I took.”

“Felix…” Chan wasn’t even sure what to say. What to suggest. “I’m going to meet you there. Okay?”

“Why?” Felix sounded so unsure. 

“I know I can’t change this but, I have to see him. Explain things to him. Felix I can’t do this. I cannot lose another friend. I can’t do this. Felix I can’t.” He didn’t want to do this. But he had to see Changbin. Had to see this mess. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t hurt another friend. Even if they were distant, he couldn’t. 

“Chan, I think I have a plan. Do you trust me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Chan...hyung. Just trust me, okay?” Felix seemed tense. Tired, tense, a little buzzed. 

“Where’s Changbin?”

“He’s on the couch.”

They somehow ended up at the church rather than going elsewhere. Which was fine. It wasn’t like they had a choice at this point. Changbin didn’t have many options at all. Well, any. 

“Look, I think I know how we can solve all of this.” Felix signed, raking fingers through his messy blonde locks, “to save him.”

“How? He’s already—“

“We burn the place to the ground.”

Chan never expected this. 

Where was this suggestion when he needed it?

“But then—“

“Everyone inside would die, yes.”

“Felix,” Chan thought about it. It sounded great. And then it wasn’t. His siblings. His parents. Babies. Children who didn’t know any better. 

“Everyone has to die for it to end. Why not take everyone out together. If they believe so hard...maybe they’ll enjoy burning to death to meet the gods.”

What. 

In a way, Chan liked that. Though he’d been having his doubts about this bullshit cult since…since Minho, he just, maybe death was okay. For everyone. 

“Why didn’t you give me this option before?” 

Why did he ask that. 

“Chan...before I—“

“You let me kill him, Felix. I killed Minho.”

“No-no. You didn’t kill him. The fire—“

“I killed him, Felix.”

Chan was shaking. His head was spinning. He felt like crying. Vomiting. Dying. This was so unreal. So painful and wrong. Burn the place down. With everyone inside. Changbin would still die, wouldn’t he? This wouldn’t end well. Jisung would just be left alone. Chan would still be responsible for Changbins death. 

“How...how does this help him.”

“Chan, I know I will never make up for what happened. I know nothing I do will ever change that but—if we get him off that cross in time. We can do it.”

“Wait...but he’d be on the cross. He wouldn’t be able to run—“

“The other one. Bring him.”

“Are you out of your mind? He won’t sit by and watch Changbin suffer!?”

“It’s his only chance to get him out of there. When you’re about to set him on fire...just toss the canister onto the curtains by accident.”

“Someone will stop me—“

“You have to light him up.”

“Felix this isn’t making sense. He’ll die!?”

“His ex can get him down. You and him. Get him down. Go out the back. Lock the door.”

Chan’s head was spinning. “And they don’t know how to open doors all of a sudden?” 

“Block it. Get Jisung to chain the entrance.”

“Why the fuck do you think jisung is going to help me?” Chan growler, hands in his hair as Felix finally opened the door to the room. The room Chan refused to enter since...last year. 

“Don’t cur—,” Felix stopped, shaking his head, “he has no choice. If he wants to save Changbin he’ll do it. The cops won’t make a difference. Nothing he does will do anything. Where even is he, Chan?” 

“He’s in the car. Backseat. Whatever was going around knocked him out. Felix this isn’t going to work. This is delusional.” Chan hissed. 

“Honestly, maybe it is.”

Chan wanted to deck him. 

“Felix, this is stupid. This isn’t helping me. Or Changbin. This is going to get him killed anyways. You’ll be dead so you don’t fucking care.”

Felix grit his teeth this time, arms crossing over his chest, “Chan, I’m trying to help. I can only do so much—“

“You’ve done enough. This is the second time you’ve suggested something that—“ Chan stopped, noticing Felix’s change in expression through his own clouded eyes. He was crying. Of course he was. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Changbin doesn’t have many options, Chan.” Felix spoke, voice sickeningly low, “If Jisung loves him at all, he'll do it. The cops won’t help him. Nobody can change this.” 

This was stupid. 

It was stupid. 

“What the fuck are you suggesting to me!?” Jisung was, of course, not taking it well. How could he? “Changbin—why won’t you let me call the police?! Unite me!”

Yeah, being tied to a chair in a church room with a fucking bed and candles wasn’t the ideal location for this chat. Not one bit. 

“I’ve told you six times, Jisung. The cops won’t help. One of the sheriffs is apart of this, and we have public officials in there too. Jisung, the only chance he has is if you—“

“If I What!? Lock hundreds of people into a burning church and somehow get Changbin out!? After you fucking nail him to wood!? You’re a fucking monster!”

Chan deserved that. 

“Yes. If you don’t, he will die.”

“This is insane. Chan if you don’t untie me I—“

“You’ll what? Call the cops somehow? Tell them your boyfriends been abducted by a cult for a sacrificial ceremony? You’re going to expect them to march over and arrest everyone?! I literally told you who was involved with this cu—religion.” Chan was losing patience. 

He felt awful. 

“Chan, I’ve known you for awhile now. I’m begging you to untie me. Cut the shit. Take me to Changbin.” 

Jisungs eyes were fogging. 

“Please, I don’t like this game. It’s not cute or funny or—“

“Jisung. This is the only way out.”

Jisung shook his head, “this is crazy. You’re all insane...get me to Changbin. I have to take him home.”

Take him home. 

“Why didn’t you take me home, Channie?” 

Chan spun around, eyes scanning the nothingness behind him. 

Why didn’t he just take Minho home?

“I’m losing everything for Changbin, Jisung. It’s either I burn him and you lose him. Or you help me save him and we burn the place to the ground.” Chan turned back, eyes panicked. 

“Chan...this isn’t real.”

“It is. This is the only way out. Please...please don’t make me hurt another person I care about.”

Jisung twitched uncomfortably. 

It took them hours to get right again. Hours of sobbing and avoiding gazes. 

Hours of Jisung asking over and over about him. About things that hurt Chan. 

Changbin had told Jisung about Minho. Of course he had. A fire. A fire at the dance studio that killed two young men. Burnt so badly they weren’t able to be identified by anything but their IDs in the locker room. That had somehow made it through the blaze. Of course they had. 

Hearing Jisung sputter our words Chan didn’t want to hear, asking if Chan had done this before, how many times. Things Chan didn’t want to answer. 

Minho. 

Especially about him. 

But Jisung could figure it out. Jisung wasn’t stupid. He was a smart kid. Bright. He could see everything clearly. 

“This is the only way.” 

Jisung has calme considerably, eyes at the floor, face still and frozen. 

“Yes.”

“How far. How far does it go till I can save him?”

“You’ll have to wait for me to get the gasoline.”

Jisungs breath hitched. 

“Wait for him to start...to start screaming.”

Jisung was frozen solid. 

“He might get burnt a little. I want to prevent it if I can but...the best time is when the second fire is set. Everyone will close their eyes. They’ll start praying. It’ll be the best time.” Chan felt sick. Sickened by his own words and his actions that would take place later. 

He realized that Changbin would be set to die in less than 24 hours now. It was nearly daytime. 

“Jisung, if you go to the police they’ll kill him. And then they’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

Jisung just nodded, eyes still dripping tiny tears. 

Chan felt sick. 

The whole ordeal was sickening. Someone he knew. Someone else he knew. He didn’t even know if he could blame Felix at this point. 

“Chan?”

Chan’s eyes grazed over to the voice, face still as the person looking at him had nothing but concern plastered across their own. 

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

Did he say yes? 

“I’m fine.” Chan nodded, the feeling of cool fingertips pressing against his cheek, “I’m fine, mom.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want…” she trailed off as people walked by, giving Chan awakened glances, “a repeat. Of last time. I know you know this boy.”

Chan kept himself still. “I’m fine, mom.”

“Chan, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. What you’ve had to deal with.” He needed her to stop, “if I could change it all.” Her voice hitched, “if I could have done anything to help you save him,” 

Chan didn’t want to hear this. 

“I would have. In a heartbeat. My biggest regret...it will always be watching you go through that. I made sure nobody else knew the gravity of your feelings for him but...Channie.” 

Her fingertips were too cold. 

Chan grabbed her hand in his own, pulling it off of his face and down by their sides, keeping himself as calm as he could. 

“It’s in the past. I can’t change it.” He whispered, eyeing the people taking their seats at the long narrow pews, “we can’t change it. But it’s fine. Everything will be okay.”

“Felix didn’t know, did he?”

“No. It’s fine, mom. I'm not that close to Changbin.” He lied, eyes scanning the tiny room that held Changbins unconscious body, “it won’t be that bad. He is dating my roommate but...he won’t know anything.”

His mother nodded, seeming unconvinced, “I love you, Channie. We will be there for you after. No matter what happens.”

That stung. Because they would be there after. But they wouldn’t be there in a good way. They’d be trapped. Just like Chan. Trapped. Once Changbin was off the cross and rushed out by Jisung, they’d burn. Everyone would burn. 

“Loose.” Chan beard beside him as he scanned over Changbins resting body, noticing the burn marks Felix was talking about. This was the first time he’d really gotten to look at him since. And Jisung hadn’t gotten to see him at all. Chan hoped Jisung wouldn’t bail. Or try anything. As far as he knew Jisung had already wrapped the front door in chains, and was waiting patiently. He hoped. 

“How loose?” Chan whispered, the feeling of icy fingers brushing along his own hand, lacing together in nothingness, “Min?”

“So loose that he can pull himself out when the time comes.”

Chan knew there was no one talking to him. It wasn’t real. 

“Gotcha.” Chan spoke, knotting carefully. He couldn’t tie them as loose as he liked, but he’d do his best. 

He felt the cool air at his back, “Are you going to be nice to him?”

Chan shuddered, tying the last knot around Changbins chest and the wood, “yes.”

“That’s so unfair.” 

Chan shook off the nothing that had wrapped itself around him, shakily standing. He needed to get the nails. Finish this as quickly as possible. Changbin would surely need a hospital as soon as this was over. 

Over. 

“Chan,” Felix was beckoning from the other side, “Are you okay?”

He was fine. Felix knew that. Everything would be fine. 

“I’m good.” Chan’s eyes met Felix’s as the girl tying his knots pulled herself up, going to retrieve the box of nails from floor close by. 

Felix just sighed, letting his head fall back, eyes shut. 

“Ow.” Giggles behind him nearly caused Chan to yell out. He needed this phantom to leave him alone. As much as he’d love to see and hold this ‘thing’, he was busy. Too busy. 

“Stop.” Chan whispered, slamming the hammer down against the nail that rest into Changbins hand. He made sure to keep them as loose as possible. Changbin would still need help with the ropes, but he could at least yank his limbs free if he tried hard enough. And Changbin wasn’t weak. By any means. Changbin and Minho were closer than Chan and Changbin were, he knew they were both strong. Worked out together. They were strong. He was strong enough. 

Strong enough. Yeah. Chan ran into the first issue the moment he was settled over Changbin, that stupid silver crown puncturing into his temples. 

The drugs couldn’t keep him down long enough. And soon Chan was face to face with someone who probably trusted him at some point. 

“Chan!?” Changbin was tense. 

Of course he was. He had nails in his hands and ankles, and a crown of heavy material weighting and puncturing his skull. 

“What the fuck!?” Immediately Changbin was thrashing his hands some. Maybe Chan should nail the nails better. 

“Be quiet.” Chan insisted, pulling himself off of the younger. 

Surprisingly, Changbin seemed more angry than scared. He was screaming at Chan. Yelling every curse he could. Spitting at him, vowing to rip his dick off. Lots of things. Things he couldn’t physically do right now. 

“I’m going to kill you, do you understand!?”

Chan didn’t really care. Changbin had every right to be angry, to be screaming. 

It was okay. 

What wasn’t okay was the sound of panic that filled the smaller males voice as he was suspended into the air. Maybe he finally realized. Though Chan would do everything he could to save him. 

“Ch-Chan please. What the fuck are you doing!?” 

Changbins threats had become pleas. Maybe seeing a crowd of hooded people looking and smiling at him made this harder. Of course it did. 

Chan was glad Changbin was still too tired to pull the nails. Too distracted. Maybe they could pry them off safely once they had to. 

Felix was so calm. So collected. His crown was heavy. Chan could tell Felix had made it really heavy. He could see the strain on the younger males face, the way tears formed as he was hoisted up. 

It hurt. 

“Wow, remember my crown? You guys made it all nice and heavy for me, too. Didn’t stop me from slamming my head back into the cross. I remember how painful it was—.”

“Shut up.” Chan murmured, gaze settling on Felix’s eyes that shut tightly. 

“Hmm, I remember you tried to stop it. But it must have gotten too hot for you. You pulled away and I just slammed—“

“Stop.” Chan hissed, getting a look from Felix now. Concern. Chan just looked away. 

Changbin was aggressive for sure. Loud. Angry. Even though he was tossing up pleads with threats, Chan could tell the younger was more enraged than scared. More heated than distraught. 

He had to ignore it. Had to. Hopefully. God, he hoped Jisung was there. He hoped Jisung would come through the door and save Changbin when the time came. 

Otherwise, Chan would look stupid. And Changbin would die. And then instead of taking the whole congregation, it would just be Chan’s family put to death. 

Chan grit his teeth as he was handed the gasoline tank. Changbin was so audible, thrashing more now. The drugs were wearing off. He’d break himself out soon. Good. 

“Felix.” Chan had his eyes glued to Felix as he steadied the ladder. 

Felix peeked his eyes open, pain stricken in his features, “Hmm?” He was so calm. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Chan didn’t say more. He just shakily ascended the ladder, pouring the can of flammable liquid down the younger males body. 

It was hard to do. In a way. 

“Maybe it’s payback!” 

Minho. Stop. 

“You know, for burning me? I’m going to enjoy this, Channie.”

“Stop.” Chan whispered, gaining Felix’s attention back. 

“Why? I have freedom. I don’t have to listen to you.”

Chan grit his teeth, spinning around to face what wasn’t there. 

Though to Chan, it was. 

“Please.” Chan must have looked crazy. 

He was crazy. 

He was crazy to see the pretty faced man with his arms crossed over his chest, silver hair wisping around his face, “no.”

Chan just shook his head, shoving passed the permeable object as he took the candle from the girl who was taking Felix’s place. Chan didn’t even know her name. It didn’t matter at this point. 

Nothing mattered at this point. Changbin, even if he didn’t get out of here, it didn’t matter. Slowly Chan was realizing how little he cared about this. How little he really cared. 

Felix burned quicker than he expected. And Chan’s heart kind of bounced around as Felix stayed mostly silent. 

How does someone stay so quiet while they’re being roasted alive?

Felix was so calm. He must have been so ready to go...so ready to end it. 

Changbin. 

Chan’s eyes darted to the younger male. He had both hands free, struggling at the ropes around him chest. He couldn’t quite reach the knot. Which was good. 

He was screaming, begging to be let go while also telling Chan to fuck himself. To choke. But nothing quite got Chan like the statement that escaped his lips as Chan climbed the ladder by changbins swinging cross. 

“Did you do this to Minho!?”

Chan’s breath hitched. And his bones were shaking as the pretty ghost below just smiled. 

“Yes.” He admitted, the pain in Changbins eyes growing over the rage. “I did.” He whispered, pouring the can over the man who absolutely wanted no part of it. But not the whole can. He needed the rest to spread around. He’d already strategically poured gas behind the stage, all over electric panels that Jisung would hopefully shut on. And the trails around the pews. Trails people hadn’t quite noticed as it settled into the rug. He’d light those soon, soon. 

Chan was trying his hardest not to look at Felix. Not to look at the flames that were consuming the boy. He liked Felix. Despite what happened to Minho, he really did like him. Felix had been through everything with Chan. Everything. 

“He deserves it. Felix.” Minho was smiling again, but this time he had the candle. 

Chan swiped it away. He knew it wasn’t Minho. But god, he just couldn’t help it. 

“Does this one deserve it?”

“Stop.” Chan pleaded under his breath as Changbin swiped his hand in his direction, “it’ll be over soon. I promise.”

Of course Changbin wasn’t going to buy that. He thought Chan was a liar. A fraud. A demon. So many things were coming out of Changbins lips. 

He had to ignore it. Ignore everything he could. 

Ah. He could see Jisung. He could see him behind the stage, pupils shaky. 

So he came. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered to Changbin before holding the candle over the wood. 

Jisung was so...determined. As soon as Chan lit the fire over Changbins feet there was a loud noise from behind. 

The electrical panels. 

Chan kept himself from panic as people in the crowd asked what the noise was, what was going on. 

“Enough!” Chan yelled back in reply, the smell of burning filling his nose. 

The crowd was dumb. Dumb enough to believe nothing was happening once Chan had calmed them, telling them to pray instead. That they were not going to ruin this. 

And god. He needed this to hurry. Changbin was freaking out, screaming. Burning. 

He had to hurry. 

Jisung had to hurry. 

Good. 

Maybe the panic was worth it now. 

“It is. Burn them, Channie. You’re good at that.”

“I know. I know.” Chan whispered as he took the gas canister in his hands again, tossing the rest onto the curtains behind that would for sure connect to the wood over them. And. They’d be sitting ducks. Yes. 

Jisung must have finally came in. As Changbin panicked behind, Chan could hear crashing. Must have been the cross. And then the table of candles, lighting the carpet below. And then screaming as people finally opened their eyes. 

The electrical panel, too. The fire was growing behind the stage, catching onto the curtains. 

“Chan!” Jisung must have been yelling at him. 

But he wasn’t able to register. He couldn’t move. He just watched as people started to panic in the pews. And he even grinned at the struggle at the main door. 

“Chan!”

Jisung has his arms on Chan’s shoulders, spinning him around, “Chan we have to go! I got him down let’s go!”

Why Jisung had even thought of going to Chan was...interesting. 

“Go, it’s okay.” Chan was off for sure. He was smiling too wide at the panic before him. “Hurry before they try to use that door. Lock it quick.”

Chan didn’t really register anything else Jisung did. He just knew he could see the two leaving and slamming the door behind. 

It was hot. 

“Channie, look at them. They can’t reach the windows!”

“I know.”

“And wow, Everyone is so stupid.” Chan smiles at that. “They’re acting like animals. Trapped puppies.”

“Yeah.”

Chan could feel cold air at his hand, “wanna go make out behind the stage? it's cozy. Warm.”

Chan didn’t want to leave the sight of the carpet and pews burning. The ceiling slowly collapsing from the high curtains he’d lit. 

“It’ll be nice.”

Oh. Maybe it would be nice. 

“Yeah, we can.”

“I love you, Channie.”

Chan couldn’t process the screams and yells from his mother behind as he stepped through the discarded burning wood at the stage, face blistering as he pushed back tattering curtains. 

He couldn’t process anything as the pretty man he loved so much led him into the orange wall. 

Nothing. Just orange. And warm. And comfortable. The cool embrace and chapped lips brushing against his own. Heaven. 

“I love you too, Minho.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading another emotionally crippling fic. If you made it this far, you’re welcome. Again, I promise I love Minho LOL. 
> 
> Yell at me @;
> 
> A L S O 
> 
> I don’t know why on earth I have to do this but please do not reupload my work under any circumstances. If you’d like to for any reason please message me first, do not reupload my work. If you see my works on wattpad please report them, I will never grant permission for wattpad.  
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